You And Me Both, Girl
by icecreamcastles
Summary: They could have been happy. They should have been.


**_You And Me Both, Girl  
_**James Cook/Naomi Campbell, Effy Stonem, Emily Fitch  
PG (PG-13 maybe?)  
Summary:_ They could have been happy. They should have been._  
Disclaimer: Not my characters. This has been a disclaimer.  
AN: I had Naomi/Cook feels. And here they are for all to see. No beta, sorry. This has spoilers for Effy's episode (Skins Fire) and takes place before Cooks episode (Skins Rise) that hasn't aired yet.

* * *

Cooks's not looked, hasn't bothered since Foster. He let it all fuck off. He left. Ran. He had to. Never looked back. Had nothing to look back for.

He's lighting a spliff, he's not looking, but he feels something. It's looking at him. She looks well. Too damn well since the last time he'd seen her. He doesn't look for long but he knows she still is. She would. He smashed Foster's head in and left the man's blood painted the way Freds had been for all to see. He feels the past he never looked back at walk towards him.

"Cook."

"Eff."

He's not looked back to her, at her. Doesn't even care to look. She doesn't ask where he's been and he's not bothered to ask either, not because he wants to respect her privacy, he just doesn't give two fucks and a half what precious world Eff has made for herself. It always was about her. How nobody knows her and never will but it's all bullshit, she's full of shit. He sees right through her. He figured he did a long time ago he just didn't want to accept it. Wanted and hoped she'd want him back. Freds and JJ it did their head in trying to work her out and never realized there's nothing to work out. She's transparent. So much love in her heart, her mum told JJ, but it's that idea that makes it impossible for anyone to see it. And it's just that. An idea. There's been nothing in that girls heart for a long, long time. Poor bastards the three of them were back then.

Effy does eventually try to slither her way into him but there's no crevice in his thickened skin that she can crawl her way into. He laughs at the brilliance of that. Time changes them all but that girl… no fucking changing much when there's nothing there.

Unexpectedly she does find a crack. A piece he'd forgotten there was once. The soft spot that took more than a few years to harden.

_Naoms. _

He flicks the spliff and turns to leave.

"Cook."

"Fuck off."

"Cook."

He's frozen then. He doesn't turn around but he recognizes that scarring in Effy's voice. There's a loss to it. He swallows.

"Fuck off."

He walks. He doesn't look back.

_ xxx_

He's clever. Has been. Always was really. Doesn't take much and he doesn't wait long after. You could say he's walking back to his past when he walks into the room. He watched Emily until she finally head for the toilets and locked her in. He doesn't need her bursting in. This is his past and he's looking for once. He won't let anyone make him look away. He'll go soft for this, her, just this once.

Naomi looks so fucking horrible, and not in an unpretty way but as in she's half dead already. Her hands feel cold when he takes them in his hand. It sends a shiver through him when he presses his lips to her knuckles. His warmth must have burned the cold in her because she stirs. She wakes. She looks terrified.

"M' fucking dead." Her voice now only a ghost of a sound.

He realizes she's scared to die without Emily by her side so he smiles and puts those worries to rest. "Nah, girl. Just unlucky you woke up and had to see my face first thing."

She's tired so much that she's not able to return his smile. Her eyes thank fuck still have the ability to shine a light for him. It's the only smile she can't give. She is no longer able to have a smile to give. It breaks his heart because that means he won't ever get another one either. _Poor Ems._ He thinks.

He remembers Naomi's smile but just barely. The memory is faded. Looking back doesn't lend a help to him.

Naomi starts to grip his hand tighter. Her body tenses, trembles. Her eyes widen and he sees her chest when it stills and breath starts to fade and go. As does she.

He brings a hand up to covers his eyes, his thumb pressing into the side of one of them. The pressure makes his eyes water more. Tears flow down his cheeks and he buries his sobs down deep, holding his breath until his chest feels raw and he can't hold anymore.

Her name breaks into a sound when he allows it a voice.

And looking back hadn't help. Until suddenly it does.

He hears the monitors beeping. Death in a beeping sound. He needs to leave before someone comes. He cups her face in his hands and kisses her lips gently. Her body cold, gone. She's dead. At least he knows now there will be no soft spot left. She was sort of the one. And for the first time since he left his old life behind he wants to go back.

For her.

Just as he's walking out of the door Doctors and nurses are just coming in. He shoves past them. The force of him making one or two of them end up on the floor. They're yelling after him. Calling police no doubt.

And he walks. He has nothing left to look back at. So he just walks and he thinks. And then he knows.

They could have been happy. They could have been imperfectly perfect. For each other. Because they were. And they could have been happy. They could have fit. Because they do. They did. They could have been. Should have been. At least for a little while. They should have.


End file.
